


On Your Knees

by GoodJanet



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: 2016 US Presidential Election, Contracts, Crack Treated Seriously, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: This was inspired by Pence's "I get on my knees every day" comment during the debates.Pence learns exactly what the Republican nominee expects of him.Originally posted on October 5, 2016. I got depressed and deleted it, but I figured I could repost it now.





	On Your Knees

~~They worked out a schedule.~~

Their _lawyers_  worked out a schedule that both parties (and attending witnesses) were here to sign and agree to.

The whole affair is rather small, as far as signings go. No photographers or after-party this time. Just some champagne with their lawyers. Melania is there, but Karen is nowhere to be seen. A few of Melania’s friends show up dressed to the nines in VSL, Chanel, and the like. Melania wears sunglasses even though they’re inside. She sticks them in her bag when the door clicks shut behind them, locking them off from the world.

Pence pulls out Melania’s chair when Donald barrels past her towards his seat at the head of the table.

“Lady first,” Pence says.

He puts a sleek black pen in her hand once she’s sitting down on the faux velvet chair. (He sits next to Donald. Their lawyers flank them.) Her lips imperceptibly struggle not to sneer at her husband’s chosen partner being so close to her. She is made uneasy by his dead eyes and pained smile. Not to mention he was utterly tacky. His pen didn’t even have his name on it.

But doesn't dwell. She wants this over and done with as quickly as possible, and it’s not like she’s going to bother Donald with her concerns. It isn’t worth her time or the risk.

One of the dozens of lawyers she’s met this year slides a stapled sheaf of papers across the table towards her. She doesn’t read it. She doesn't even glance at it. She doesn’t need to. She already knows what it says. She signs her name in large, firm letters.

It’s over in three seconds.

She slides the offending utensil back to its owner.

Melania hears her phone buzz in her Coach purse and wonders if it is the end of the world calling. This game can’t last forever, and she doesn’t want it to. She picks up her phone and swipes her password with one ruby red-nailed finger. It’s just Barron. She sighs in relief as she responds.

“Mr. Pence?” one of the lawyers says.

Mike tries not to let his annoyance at Melania’s lack of attention show on his face. Did she even care about what she had just agreed to? Obviously the Trumps valued discretion and secrecy when it came to family affairs, but he knows he cannot be as blasé as she. He picks up the contract to read over it one more time.

_“…shall not be renegotiated without prior authorization from Mr. Donald J. Trump and without one (or more) of Mr. Trump’s lawyer(s). Special occasions—such as birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc.—may be renegotiated six months after signing. Starting with the first Wednesday of every month, and every Wednesday until this contract predetermines, the second party, Mr. Michael Pence, is to take over Mrs. Melania Trump’s wifely duties._

_It will be noted here that Mr. Trump’s preferred method of receipt, from partners present and future, is while seated. The second party is to be kneeling. Knee comfort is further discussed in Index A._

_Further information regarding positions, moves, grooves, preferences, toys, games, equipment, other participants, etc. are outlined in Index B, and is furthermore…”_

“Mr. Pence?” the lawyer asks.

Somehow, the man manages to sound both patient and annoyed at all at once. Pence smiles in a way he hopes comes across as charming. He even makes an effort to smile at the witnesses, but all of them are on their phones, some standing with their backs to him. He picks up his pen and signs his name in his usual small, cramped style.

Mike barely lift the pen off the page when the lawyer snatches it away from him.

“Pleasure doing business,” the (still-nameless) lawyers says, standing and extending his hand.

Pence stands and shakes it, and the lawyers and witnesses quickly sign and evacuate the spacious conference room.

"Tremendous, tremendous," Donald says.

Donald is the first to leave, and everyone else quickly follows.

So that was it.

Melania stands and straightens out her perfect clothes. She grabs her purse and struts away on sky-high heels. He’s pretty sure she’s going to leave without even acknowledging what they’ve both agreed to—for each other, for the country, for Donald.

He’s wrong.

“Word of advice,” she says from the door with lips the same color as her nails. “Next time, don’t read what he gives you. Don’t even question it. Just sign it. It’s easier that way.”

She finishes speaking and turns away from him in a brilliant swirl of hair and silk. He’s stunned as he listens to her million dollar shoes click across the tiles away from the conference room until all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears.


End file.
